


numbers

by euriele



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Doctor/Patient, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 04:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1590887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euriele/pseuds/euriele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Tucker had known that his night was going to end in the ER, he would’ve told Church to go fuck himself when he showed up at Tucker’s apartment, ready to drag him out for a night around town. Unfortunately, Tucker hadn’t known that his night would end in the ER, so he was more than eager to go out and get drunk with Church and the others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	numbers

If Tucker had known that his night was going to end in the ER, he would’ve told Church to go fuck himself when he showed up at Tucker’s apartment, ready to drag him out for a night around town. Unfortunately, Tucker hadn’t known that his night would end in the ER, so he was more than eager to go out and get drunk with Church and the others.

At the third bar they went to, some guy started to hit on Tex whilst Church was getting drinks. When he got back, shit started to kick off. Tucker didn’t even remember the details properly because he was so blackout drunk at that point. He just remembered Church and this douchebag having some kind of Mexican stand-off, and the next he was on his knees in the bar’s parking lot, glass embedded in his cheek and forehead.

And so Tex and Sister dragged his sorry ass to the ER before Tex left the two of them to it, insisting that she needed to get Caboose home because he was crying. Church left with her, which meant that Sister had to sit with Tucker in the waiting room for two hours before someone finally saw to him.

In the meantime, she managed to get an ice pack for him, as well as a bucket he retched into every few minutes until he had nothing left in his stomach to throw up. Sister seemed disgruntled the whole time they sat around waiting, complaining loudly to every nurse that passed by.

“The dude’s bleeding and you make him wait two hours?” she half-shouted at the closest nurse. “He needs stitches!”

“We’re quite busy at the moment, miss,” the nurse snapped. “And if you don’t calm down, we’ll have you thrown out.”

Sister pipes down after that, but Tucker can still hear her grumbling beneath her breath.

Finally, Tucker and Sister are finally called forwards and are met by some doctor the receptionist introduces as ‘Dr. Washington’. Tucker’s thinking about how weird a name it was when ‘Dr. Washington’ walks into the waiting room and Tucker just gapes at him because Dr. Wash is too well-built and too good looking and far too fucking muscular to just be a doctor, and he got freckles and grey eyes and –

“Bet you fifty bucks I can get his number,” Sister whispered in Tucker’s ear.

“You’re on,” he said back.

So began the terrible quest to get the hot doctor’s number. And honestly, Tucker felt kinda bad for the guy. Having to deal with two drunks late at night was bad enough, but dealing with two drunks who are desperately trying to get your number? Probably just topped the whole guy’s night off.

Amazingly, Dr. Wash was extremely patient with Tucker and Sister. He managed to get Tucker to swallow the painkillers and sit still as he tried to pull the glass from his wounds. Meanwhile, the drugs made him even more lightheaded and dizzy than ever before. He frowned up at Dr. Wash, trying to make the guy’s features clearer.

_The guy’s a doctor,_ his intoxicated head told him. _He’ll love pick-up lines._ To be fair, it was a better plan that Sister’s, who’d just been going for the hand’s on approach of throwing herself at the poor guy. Then, Wash had gotten her to sit down on the chair in the corner of the room and mess around with a spare stethoscope. Of course, Sister had passed out moments later and was currently snoring.

He wanted that fifty bucks.

“I’d like to find another doctor,” Tucker slurred.

“Why?” Dr. Wash said with a frown.

“Because I’ve got a crush on you. Wanna go for a drink?”

Wash sighed through his nose. “I think you’ve had enough to drink.”

Tucker’s clumsy fingers grabbed onto Wash’s stethoscope and he held it out to him, a grin on his face. “Why don’t you listen to your heart and go out with me?”

“Because you are far too drunk,” Wash muttered, finally pulling out the last piece of glass and instead picking up the needle. “Now sit still, unless you want this ending up in your eye.”

“I wish I was your coronary artery, so that I could be wrapped around your heart.”

“That’s slightly disturbing.”

“How about we ditch this joint and go study some anatomy?”

Wash sighed.

Tucker could see that he wasn’t getting anywhere with this dude, and his mind offered up a new idea that he thought was ingenious at the time but fucking stupid later on.

“ _Doctor, doctor, give me the news_ ,” he started singing.

“Oh dear god.”

“ _I’ve got a bad case of lovin’ you!_ ”

“For the love of god –“

“ _No pill’s gonna cure my ill, I’ve got a bad case of lovin’ you!”_

“You done?”

“This normally works out for me,” Tucker mumbled. “I’m having performance issues.” His eyes suddenly glinted. “Hey –“

“ _No_.”

So they sat in silence whilst Wash finished sewing up the cuts. When he finished, he stood back and started to clear away his equipment. Tucker went to stand up, but Wash pushed him back down on the bed.

“You’re staying right there until I say you can go,” Wash said.

“How long will that be?” Tucker whined.

“As long as I say so.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Don’t get into a bar fight next time.”

“It wasn’t my –“

“Trying to sleep here!” Sister suddenly said, glaring at them both from her seat. They both fell silent until she started to snore again, when Wash shook his head.

“So, what happened anyway?”

“Some dickhead tried to hit on my best friend’s girlfriend.”

“The usual?”

“Yup,” Tucker said, popping the ‘p’. “Not like she needed her honour defended but meh.”

“So you ended up with the short end of that stick?”

“There was no stick involved.”

Wash just sighed.

“Is that the only sound you can make?”

“What?”

“You sigh a lot.”

“I only do it a lot when I’m around idiots.”

“Hey!”

Wash had a smirk on his face, and boy did Tucker love boys with those stupid cocky smirks and their arms crossed over their chests and shirts pulled tight across their chests so that their muscles showed and Tucker did so not have a boner right there. He so did not like guys with freckles and silver grey eyes and scars –

“Dude, what’s with the scar?” Tucker asked.

“What scar?”

“The fucking knife mark through your eyebrow.”

“It’s just a scar.”

“Man, humour me. I’m tired and I want a bedtime story.”

Wash laughed. “A bedtime story?”

“I assume you’re gonna keep me here for a while so I want a bedtime story.”

“Considering how annoying you are, I won’t be keeping you here all night.”

“Old married couple,” Sister muttered.

“We met an hour ago, Kai,” Tucker said.

“Young married couple.”

 

*

 

Wash did end keeping Tucker in for most of the night, mostly because he didn’t trust the two drunks to make their own way back. Also, he claimed that Tucker had a concussion. Tucker tried to tell him that he was just mistaking the concussion for just how drunk he was but Wash was having none of it.

Despite how tired he was, Tucker couldn’t sleep. Wash stayed with him all night long, sitting in their room and making sure that they didn’t run wild or break anything. Tucker lolled on his bed, his head hanging over the edge and watching Wash stare at him disapprovingly.

“Dude, you’re hanging off of the ceiling like a bat.”

“Sit up,” Wash said exasperatedly, walking over and helping Tucker up into a sitting position. “You’ll cause yourself more damage lying like that.”

“What is up with your freckles man?” Tucker asked, grabbing Wash’s wrist and pulling his arm around so that he could look at the freckles that dotted their way up past his elbow and all the way up to Wash’s face. “Like, you’re covered in them.”

“Nice observation,” Wash said, pulling his arm from Tucker’s grasp. “Now lie down.”

“You just told me lying down was bad.”

“Lying with your head over the edge is bad. Putting your head to the pillow is good.”

Tucker complied and flopped down on the pillow, rubbing at his stitches. Wash’s hand was slapping his away in an instant, and Tucker glared at the doctor.

“You’ll mess up your stitches if you rub like that.”

“Sorry mom.”

“So what was with the singing and the pick-up lines earlier?” Wash asked, drawing up a chair by Tucker’s bedside. “And what was with your friend doing… you know what.”

“We had a bet,” Tucker yawned, his exhaustion suddenly catching up on him. “Fifty bucks to whoever got your number.”

Wash frowned. “Why?”

“Because you’re fucking cute, dude.”

“What?”

“You’re really cute. Like that scrunch up thing you’re doing with your eyebrows? That’s cute. Your freckles? Cute. Your entire face? Cute. And then don’t even get me started on your fucking muscles, because that’s when you from cute to fucking hot.”

“Uh…”

“See?” Tucker slurred, drifting off. “Cute.”

 

*

 

Tucker has no idea when he ended up in his own bed. He barely remembered the rest of the night after the fight kicked off in the bar, never mind getting home to his bed. Groaning, he sat up and rubbing at his aching head, careful to not disturb the stitches too much. Wait, _stitches_?

“ _Morning, Tucker,_ ” Church said when he answered the phone.

“Why do I have stitches?” Tucker asked, looking at them in the mirror in the bathroom.

“ _Bar fight. You took a bottle to the face and had to go to the ER. By the way, we got your bill. It’s gonna cost you $1500.”_

“I’m never going out on the piss with you again.”

“ _Why not? You got some guy’s number?_ ”

“What?”

“ _On the back of your hand._ ”

Tucker frowned and glanced at the back of his hand where, sure enough, a number he didn’t recognize was written. “Whose number is this?”

“ _Some doctor’s. Kai said something about owing you fifty bucks as well_.”

“I don’t remember a fucking thing about this doctor or this fifty bucks.”

“ _Dude, just take the fifty and the date. Tex saw him too. Apparently, he’s fucking hot_.”

Long after Church hung up, Tucker stared at the number on the back of his hand before he finally sighed and decided to call up Mr Hot Doctor. Unfortunately, he woke up Mr Hot Doctor when he called, so the guy sounded less than impressed.

“ _Who is this?”_ he groaned.

“Uh, I think I met you last night,” Tucker said, rubbing at his stitches. “You gave me your number.”

“ _Oh, Tucker._ ” The guy sounded wide awake now.

“Remind what your name is? I was kind of black out drunk last night.”

“ _Yeah, I noticed. It’s Washington, David Washington._ ”

“David Washington… Nope, no memory. Why did you give me your number?”

“ _You and that girl you came in with had a bet. Fifty dollars to whoever got my number._ ”

“Kai owes me fifty bucks.”

Wash laughed. “ _So, was this just a meaningless bet or will something come out of this?_ ”

“I – I – What?”

“ _You called me cute last night._ ”

Tucker could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. “Uh – Uh – “

“ _Doesn’t have to be a thing if you don’t want it to._ ”

“No, no! I want it to!”

“ _Coffee at three then?”_

“Sure. Where?”

“ _There’s this café near the hospital called Blood Gulch. Heard of it?_ ”

“Yeah, Kai and I go there all the time.”

“ _See you there then._ ”

“See you there.”

Tucker was grinning as he hung up and saved Wash’s number into his phone. He was grinning as he rubbed the pen marks off of the back of his hand, and he was still grinning minutes later, when he was stood outside Kai’s door.

“Kai?” he called, knocking.

“What?” came her muffled reply.

“You owe me fifty bucks.”

**Author's Note:**

> this was for frecklesshake.tumblr.com
> 
> and this was trash


End file.
